


but here's my number

by ifonlynotnever



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, Gen, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonlynotnever/pseuds/ifonlynotnever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Um. Yeah," says Jamie. Tyler fistpumps again. "Who... is this?"</p>
<p>"You're a dude," says Tyler. "That's pretty cool."</p>
<p>[or: Tyler is drunk, and Jamie's number is just <em>there</em>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	but here's my number

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by darrylheartzhenya on tumblr: 3: saw their number graffitied on a toilet stall au.
> 
> originally posted [here](http://ifonlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/104694282622/3).

So Tyler's kind of... drunk.

Or, like. Wasted.

Super wasted.

The kind of wasted where he's actually sitting in a bathroom stall in a club downtown, just contemplating how incredibly smashed he is.

For the record: _so_ smashed.

"Oh my god," he mutters to himself, leaning his cheek against the siding of the stall. "I am so wasted."

He's also alone. And not, like, just in the bathroom? Although that's true, too, as far as he can tell without actually looking under the divider and counting feet. But he's alone as in Brad totally ditched him when he got that call from his girlfriend early on in the night.

Which is cool? And Tyler's not, like, blaming Marchy for that? He'd totally do the same if he had a for real relationship that wasn't just regular hook-ups. But he'd also kinda been counting on Marchy for a ride home, mostly because Brownie's not back from the let's-get-back-together trip he and his girlfriend went on last week, and everyone else they know had split from him and Marchy and gone to some party at a frat Tyler's been banned from because his ex is kind of super vindictive.

So he's alone.

"There's cabs," Tyler reminds himself, which is true, and he almost definitely has enough money for it.

He hates taking cabs by himself.

"Uuuugh," Tyler groans, and smushes his face against a particularly artistic rendering of a penis drawn on the divider of the stall. He reaches up and traces it with a finger, then the sketch of a car beneath it. There are actual words over to the right of the drawings, and Tyler manages to pull himself upright enough to look at them.

"Call Jamie for an okayish ride," Tyler reads aloud. There's a phone number written just beneath it.

_Huh_ , he thinks, and fumbles for his phone.

It takes a while for Tyler to actually dial the number, mostly because when he's this drunk, his fingers feel like they're about two times bigger and four times clumsier than usual. He manages it eventually, though not after having to hold his phone up against the stall divider to figure out if the numbers match. He lets his mind wander a little, absently counting the rings and sloppily fistpumping when there's a connecting click.

"Hello?" Jamie (probably) says, soft and warm like a blanket around Tyler's shoulders. Probably-Jamie's voice is quiet, comforting, even, though there's a hint of nerves, caution fraying at the edges.

It's also definitely male. Which. Huh. Tyler was not really expecting. Not that he was expecting anything? Maybe the dick drawing should've tipped him off, though.

"Jamie?" Tyler asks, just to make sure.

"Um. Yeah," says Jamie. Tyler fistpumps again. "Who... is this?"

"You're a dude," says Tyler. "That's pretty cool."

"Um," Jamie says again. "Yeah. Seriously, who is this?"

Oh, right.

"Tyler," he replies. "Seguin. Tyler Seguin. You don't know me. Probably, anyway? I mean, I don't know you. I don't think. Like, your number's not in my phone already, and I don't know your voice and stuff. I'm pretty good at voices. So I'm thinking—"

"How did you get my number?" Jamie cuts in, which is kind of rude? But Tyler likes Jamie's voice and he's totally willing to forgive him for it.

"Well," Tyler begins, then pauses, thinking. "I'm a little drunk."

"Yeah," Jamie mumbles. "I kinda noticed."

"Yeah?" says Tyler, pleased. "Cool."

There's a long beat of silence before Jamie goes, "...So?"

"Oh!" Right. " _So._ I'm out with Marchy and stuff—Marchy's one of my best friends? He's pretty cool. Do you know him?"

"I," says Jamie. "I don't think so?"

"Oh. Well. He's cool. Anyway, so I'm out with him, right? But then he gets a call from his girl and bails, which isn't cool, but it  _is_  cool, because that's his girl, y'know? They're super solid. But I'm, like—I've been drinking and stuff? I wasn't driving? Because you're not supposed to do that. So I'm stuck and I went to the bathroom because I had to go and I was thinking about getting a cab, but I don't like taking cabs alone because the drivers talk and stuff and sometimes they're creepy and I like talking to people who aren't cab drivers, and your number's, like. Right here. On the wall or whatever. 'Call Jamie for an okayish ride.' And, like, I need a ride," he finishes proudly. "There's a dick under it. Oh. Wait.  _That_ kind of ride. Huh."

There's a long, long pause. It's so long that Tyler almost has to check that Jamie hasn't hung up on him or anything, except that he can still hear Jamie's breathing on the other end. It's pretty nice.

"Um," says Jamie, finally. "That's... What?"

"Do I have to say it all over again?" Tyler _totally_ doesn't whine. "Like, I totally can and stuff, but it's sorta long and I don't really wanna. But if you say I should, I—"

"No, um. Right. It's okay," Jamie mumbles. "Um, could you just, like... one minute, okay?"

"Mmkay," Tyler hums, and waits.

In the background, he can sort of hear Jamie talking, and other people—maybe he's at a party or something? A quiet party?—and then a loud guffaw.

Tyler's never heard a laugh that made him think of the word guffaw before—he's not even sure where he ever heard that word or why he remembers it—but that definitely was one.

"Hellooooo?" Tyler calls out, just in case Jamie got distracted by his probably-awesome friends and forgot about him, which has totally happened before. Jesse can be a jerk sometimes. "Jamiiiiie?"

"I'm here," Jamie replies, soft in his ear, and Tyler smiles, satisfied. "Hold on, okay?"

On Jamie's end, there's more talking and guffawing and Jamie's voice throughout it all until he comes back to Tyler.

"Okay," Jamie starts, with a long-suffering sigh, and Tyler's stomach drops a little because that doesn't sound too good. Sighs aren't usually good. Big Z at the animal shelter Tyler volunteers at, he sighs a lot when Tyler comes in looking pretty wrecked or just kind of in general when he sees Tyler, and it's usually followed by a lecture about responsibility and what'd happen if he came in looking like that when one of the big bosses was around.

"Okay?" Tyler repeats, closing his eyes and leaning against the divider.

"Okay," Jamie says. "It, um—My brother. Jordie. He's the one who put my number there."

Tyler wrinkles his nose. "Your _brother_ did? That's kinda ew."

"I guess so, yeah." Jamie sounds sheepish. It's cute. "But we'd kind of—It was in the middle of a prank war? And he says he was really, really drunk at the time and it seemed like a great idea. So. Yeah."

"Oh." Tyler thinks a moment. "That's still kinda ew. He's really good at drawing dicks, though."

Jamie sort of snorts. "I'll tell him you said so."

Tyler nods. "It's like. Art. With a lot of detail. He must see a lot of dicks, like, on the regular, y'know?"

There's a beat, and then probably the most awesome giggle Tyler has ever had. It's sort of a laugh? But mostly it's a giggle. A really cute one, kind of punched out, surprised. And it's from Jamie, who sounds super nice. Tyler smiles proudly.

"Just his own, I think," Jamie gets out between giggles.

"He must study it a lot," Tyler says cheerfully, mostly just to hear Jamie laugh again. "Like, for _hours_."

And Jamie _laughs_ , laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, loud and bright and real.

Tyler has never been prouder of himself.

It takes a minute for the laughter to die down, and the mirth isn't quite out of Jamie's voice when he says, "So. Tyler."

"Yeah?"

It's weird how Tyler can hear Jamie's smile. "You, um. I—You said you don't like cabs, right?"

Tyler nods. "Yeah."

"Because you don't like talking to cab drivers and stuff? Or just... being alone?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I—The thing is, I can't—We've kinda—I had a few, so I can't—And even if I was sober, I don't think—Because we don't know each other? And that might be a little..."

Oh.

"Oh, yeah, no, totally. 'Cause like, I don't know you aren't a serial killer? And you don't know if I'm a serial killer. No, man, that's fine. Totally. I get it, don't worry. I just—" Tyler picks at the knee of his jeans. "Your number was right there. It was stupid? I'm drunk. Like. So—"

"I—No, I'm—" Jamie lets out a breath. "I was kind of. If you wanted to get a cab. And I'll talk to you. For your ride home. So you don't have to..."

Tyler blinks, sitting up a little straighter. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." There's that smile again, loud and clear in Jamie's voice. "If you want to."

Tyler grins, standing up on wobbly legs and stumbling out of the bathroom stall. "Yeah. That'd be—That's pretty cool of you, man. Seriously. Thanks."

"It's—You're welcome. It's cool." There's a little pause, then a huff of a breath, before Jamie says, "You sound like a good guy. And if—I mean..."

Tyler waits for more as he makes his stumbling way back through the club, out to the front, but Jamie's quiet again.

"If what?" he asks once he's outside, but promptly forgets about waiting for an answer with the sensation of cool air nipping at his cheeks. "Hey, it feels really nice out here."

There's a quiet laugh on the other end. "Yeah? That's good. You see any cabs?"

"Uh... Yeah," Tyler says as he flags one down. "Got one." He hesitates with his hand on the door handle. "You're really gonna stay on with me, right? You won't hang up?"

"Yeah," Jamie replies, firm and sure. "Yeah, I'll be right here the whole way. I promise."

Tyler slides into the cab. "Cool," he says, and rattles off his address to the cabbie. He leans back, pressing his cheek to the window and closing his eyes, phone up against his ear.

"Cool," Jamie repeats, quiet, soothing.

Tyler smiles.

It's the best cab ride he's ever taken.


End file.
